Three Variations On The Yang Pass

Music and poetry are intertwined with Chinese Brushing paintings in the sense that they often inspire each other.  Scholars in the past were expected to excel in painting, writing poetry and calligraphy.  It was not uncommon then, for the artist to write a painting with strategic void spaces and garnish that with verses of calligraphy.   When I was studying Chinese painting, one of the routine was to paint something according to a poem.

Three Variations On The Yang Pass is a musical piece that is rich with history.  This iconic piece has been adapted for different musical instruments and instrumentation, both eastern and western and even choral adaptations.

The musical piece was borrowed from a poem by Wang Wei, a Tang dynasty poet.  The poem was incorporated into music, and subsequently amended with lyrics and 3 refrains, thus the three variations.   The poem is about Wang Wei seeing a friend off, and Yang Pass is a strategic stop for this intrepid journey.  The Pass was a military installation in the old days, and a sentry post on the southern branch of Silk Road.

Wang's friend was assigned to a outpost that is far from the heartlands of China.  The location of that outpost would have been today's Kuqa county in Xinjiang, China.  Wang supposedly said goodbye to his friend at what would be today's Xi'an.  I looked up Google map and the journey from Xi'an to Kuqa is a 36 days trek on foot crossing an arid landscape; nothing to sneeze at.

The following is the Google map showing the points of interest:

White dot is the starting point, Xianyang (Xi'an)
B is Yang Pass
A is the final destination, the outpost at Kuqa

I shall attempt to translate the poem that Wang wrote for the occasion of saying goodbye to his buddy:

The city was shrouded in a light sprinkle, settling the dust on the road
Willows by the inn sprouting green color
Bottoms up, let's finish yet another drink
Beyond Yang Pass there shall be no old acquaintance to be found

It is customary for Chinese to host a farewell dinner and a welcome home dinner for the traveller.  The welcome home affair is aptly named "Dust Cleansing Dinner".  In other words, retiring the grime and obstacles of the journey taken.  In this poem Wang cleverly borrowed the dust theme to pave way for his friend.  He was proclaming even the sky opened up with a gentle shower to settle the dust, meaning there would be nothing to hinder a smooth voyage.  A good omen.

The word inn painted a picture of travel, and willow is a homonym with the Chinese word "stay".  When Chinese present a willow twig as a token for the traveller, it is an expression of not wanting to part company and hoping the traveller would stay a while longer.

Thus the first two verses of the poem seemed to have depicted rain and inn and willow but Wang was actually setting the stage using metaphors.  He was supplying the prerequisite of the emotional content, priming our lachrymal ducts for what's to follow.

So let us say bottoms up to yet another drink, and how many drinks have we had?  This is your last drink for a while, buddy,  because soon you'll have no one to drink with.  That's gut-wrenching!

Such is the desolate destitute, please, won't you stay for me?  Don't go!

Wang ached.

Parting is such sweet sorrow is a line from Romeo and Juliet, expressing the affection between a man and a woman.  In Wang's poem, there is resigned sadness, for a closeness soon to be beyond reach.

That was my inspiration for my paintings

I also tried painting just one camel, with Yang Pass much closer in the landscape, trying to describe the post-farewell stage of the journey, amplifying the solitude

The two versions side by side

Who's being pedantic

I explored the availability of a power outlet during a painting demonstration planning session.  I needed a hair dryer for my gig.

Chinese Brush painting is not unlike watercolor in some ways.  We might be calling our techniques by different names but they are referencing the same principles.  We are all dealing with the collective results of  water, color and paper.

Xuan paper is the preferred paper we paint on and the absorbency of the paper is affected by whether it is sized or unsized with alum and the type of fibers that the paper is made from.  The ability to control ink tone is one of the virtues we look for in a brush artist.

Feathering in watercolor involved forming a gradient that goes from saturated to more transparent by adding water to diffuse the color.  In Chinese brush painting the diffusion can go both ways.

This is an example of saturated to light, or rich into light in our vernacular.  The addition of ink or color onto a still wet brushstroke created the effect often employed for painting duckweed in Chinese painting

Clean water is applied around the hairline to promote ink diffusion, to make the brushroke more fluffy.  It is not uncommon for Chinese Brush artists to hold two brushes in their hands, one with ink and the other one just a plain wet brush.

Here is an example of the opposite, light into rich.  Brush with clean water is placed in still moist dark spots to create the voids

The following is an example of using stale ink ( the ink becomes more viscous due to evaporation, but the binder in the ink has also settled out somewhat )  The dark spot tends to stay put where as the water content from the ink seeps outward to form a clear margin.

An example of  blooms by painting with coffee.  This reminds me of water stain from a leaky roof.  I
suspect the suspended fine coffee particles helped to create the dramatic border.

Unsized Xuan is more apt to record these gradients as the paper is more "indelible", relatively speaking.  It traps all the nuances of a brushstroke.  Sized or semi-sized paper on the other hand allows the ink or color to float a little bit longer before being latched on by the fibers, thus any gradients formed are usually more homogeneous and with smooth transition.

This is where my hair dryer comes into play.  I use it for many reasons; hastening the drying time notwithstanding.   Daft antics it is not.   I use it as if it was the stop bath in the darkroom.

Anybody who has ventured into a photo darkroom knows to take the photo paper out of the developer once the ideal amount of silver grains are formed and move it to the acidic stop bath to halt the chemical reaction.   Thus once I've attained an ideal diffusion or gradient with my ink or color, I would summon the power of heat and airflow to dry up my brushstroke to prevent further diffusion.
Thus instead of using a chemical, I use a tool; a hair dryer.

So my idea of using a hair dryer was not well received.  People had no access to electricity or a hair dryer in the old days was the reason given.

To simply loathe the idea of borrowing from relevant technology is beyond me.  Why must we pretend to be living in the past to be authentic.  Does dressing up in faux period wardrobe make us more credible?  Must we foster the stereotype of ancient Chinese to be convincing?  Should we be luddites?

I'm sure name chop carvers didn't have access to power tools or computer aided graphics back in the old days.  Should we be cooking our own soot and not use color dispensed from a tube when painting?  So why the double standard.  I mused, philosophically of course, how would the Witches Dance sound like in Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique if violins were not allowed to be played col legno.  How dare we strike the strings with the back of the bow?

For the eerie effects, your Honor!

A Duan inkstone was presented as a show and tell piece.  The inkstone is produced from stones of Zhaoqing, Guangdong.  Duan is the ancient name for today's Zhaoqing.  Duan Yan ( Yan means inkstone in Chinese) is known for the fineness of its stone, thus it is not detrimental to the brush and for its ability to produce a nice ink suspension, given the right ink stick.  Of course the ethereal workmanship and decoration motif must also be mentioned.

An expert immediately proclaimed that this inkstone can store ink overnight without the ink drying out and that it can produce 7 colors/tones of ink.

Chinese consider ink as a color, but the color of the ink refers to the different gradients and appearance of the ink spot.  Thus the ink is dark, light, watery, scorched, or stale. Commonly the 5 colors are meant to remind us that we need to have variations in ink tones.  Stale ink is interesting in that the ink is left out to evaporate and becomes more viscous.  At the same time the binder in the ink settles out a bit so the resulting solution diffuses with a prominent clear margin around the dark area due to the less amount of binder in the solution.  The contemporary paint Huang Binhong established the canon of 5 brushstroke methods  and 7 ink colors.  He added the interpretation of ink that is accumulated through repeated applications and scorched ink on a mostly dry brush to be written very slowly to allow the residue moisture from the brush to slowly seep out.

Thus the color/tone of the ink refers to how the ink is treated and applied and really has nothing to do with the inkstone per se.   As far as storing the ink without it drying out, it has more to do with relative humidity and dew point and the porosity of the stone.

Invariably the conversation veers to the type of brush we paint with.  The same expert gave some eyebrow raising comments.  The brush hairs are from the "autumn hair" of animals, meaning the hair that animals/birds grew in autumn in anticipation of impending winter, he uttered.  Autumn hair is a literal translation from the Chinese words 秋毫.  It means fine long hair.  It is used metaphorically to describe something that is minuscule and detailed.  These 2 words are used in the context when a person discerningly examine details, the individual is examining autumn hair.  A disciplined regiment who does not pilfer its citizens is said to not violate a single autumn hair.  Someone who masters the brush art is said to have wicked beauty permeating to the tip of the autumn hair.  It is plausible that such hair was employed for brush making in ancient history, or that the creme de la creme brush still uses such niche material, but to hype and exaggerate all Chinese brush as such is entirely unethical and not warranted.  I think.

Of course the audience oohed and aahed in bewilderment.

Must we routinely mystify and embellish our art and implements in order to gain accreditation?  Aren't the facts interesting and revealing by themselves?  Are we living vicariously through these half truths to justify the present?  Have we become snake oil peddlers?

Have I turned into a polemicist?

Who's being pedantic?

Will Epsom Salt Work

I've used alum solution in my painting quite a bit.  It is affectionately called the Ancient Chinese Secret Solution by me.  Alum is used as a sizing agent for Xuan.  I understand alum is used as a mordant in dying.  I use it to function as a masking fluid by exploiting the fact that alum treated Xuan is less absorbent,  thus the treated area will reveal with a different gradient when stained. 

I typically would paint on the back side of the paper with a alum infused brush.  The brushstroke will reveal a clear margin when a different color is painted over it; as long as that color is not too strong to obscure the margin.

Here's an example of the margin

I've also used this technique to create a blurry image by first painting with alum on the reverse side of the paper, allowing the brushstroke to show through the top side.  I then go over the top side with a darker color, being careful to not totally obscure the original brushstroke on the back side.  The resulting image has that interesting back lit effect and suggests a 3 dimensional perception, especially when viewed from a distance, or by squinting one's eyes.

Here's another example of painting done with alum solution.  Its role in making the paper less absorbent is exploited to the extreme by functioning as a masking fluid.  It was used to paint in the snow.   Obviously it is well suited for high contrast work like this one.

I was contemplating painting a desert scene and I was interested in a novel way to depict the wind generated ridges on the sand dunes.  I didn't want to paint these wavy ridges with hard ink brushstrokes.  I therefore turned to my secret solution and envisioned the clear margins left by such brushstrokes would be more enigmatic and evoke more drama in my painting.

But I ran out of my Ancient Chinese Secret Solution.

I resorted to my daft antics. 

I recall a leftover bag of Epsom salt from when I sprained my ankle.  Epsom salt is magnesium sulfate.  Could I substitute Epsom Salt for Alum, which is aluminum and potassium sulfate.  I recall reading about using copper sulfate as a mordant, so why not magnesium sulfate?

I rolled up my sleeves and went to work.  I prepared a saturated solution of Epsom salt.  My experiment involved painting with the Epsom salt solution in raw and semi-sized Xuan.  I painted on the top side of the paper, and on the back side of the paper to see if the reveal is different.

Here is the result of painting on regular raw Xuan.  The top image is painting the Epsom salt solution on the top side of paper; bottom image is painted on the back side.

Here is the result of painting on semi-sized Xuan.  This paper is less apt to absorb liquid because of the sizing, therefore I wanted to see what effect my concoction will have, if any.

So when applied to the top side of the semi-sized Xuan (top image) Epsom salt seems to have a smidgen of effect.  I think I can make out a semblance of a faint margin.

As you can see, Epsom salt solution failed as a candidate for alum substitution.

I know what will be on my shopping list now. 

Project Water continued

Now that I had a chance to look at my water painting for a couple of weeks, I saw a major fault with the painting.  I showed too much detail in the dark areas and no details at all in the blue areas.  Instead of depicting contrast, a sunken feeling of imbalance was forged.

I know my motivation was curiosity, something to do, something to try so I should keep stoking that fire.  My first mental sketch was for something that is impressionistic, nondescript and yet able to present a clear image of the subject matter.  Perhaps I was trying to invent a Rorschach blot?   Could it be that I have a very misguided understanding of pointillism and was trying to adulterate that with my experimentation?

Time to throw logic to the wind and grab my brush and ameliorate the experiment.  Not the time to be pensive.

Basically I was writing in a lot more information, not only in the blue sections, but all over the paper.  I was juxtaposing my blue lines with my ink lines, hoping that as they intersect, some of the crossings would be serendipitous, creating those short lines that I was looking for in the first place.  I was so consumed by that process that I didn't want to  disrupt that rhythm by snapping a photo to document the progress.  Not even when I had to switch brushes.

So here's the new face, or phase, of my water project.

Project Water

I want to try my hands in painting water again.  It shall be an experimental approach.  I have a concept of what I wanted to do, but I don't have the details yet.  In my mind, this will be a project more of craft than art;  it should be fun.  I want the painting to have a contemporary, impressionistic feel to it.

I want to paint ripples on a pond surface.

I first established the background color of the water.  I painted in both warm and cool tones in diagonal streaks.  My painting of the pond shall have reflections on the surface, and I think the diagonal composition will add some intrigue.

Then I started to map out the tiny breeze generated ripples.  This is where I encountered great difficulty.  I couldn't get pass the mundane, lifeless brushstrokes.

I tried to alter my brushstrokes into more connected strokes, instead of the short, terse lines.

My thoughts and my plots were just like these lines.  Not making any sense.

Darkening some areas to create some contrast

Painting in my blue to stage the black

Granted this is not finished but it is not giving my the feel that I was searching for.

Instead of forging forwarding in the dark alley, perhaps a dark one-way alley, I shall just pin it up on the wall and let it rest.  It will come to me one day.

A Landscape Sketch

I was commissioned to do a landscape painting.  I started to do some sketches and I would like to share one of them here.

I did the sketch based on scenes from Huangshan, one of the most picturesque mountain on this planet.  Its jagged rocky spires dotting a sea of clouds is the classic view that many hoped to be a witness of.  I did the sketch in black and white, with just ink on regular raw Xuan.  I decided to punch it up a little by working it in the splash ink, high contrast style.

I realized that I skimmed over the right third of the painting.  I probably was in a hurry to finish the sketch so I went back and added a few details.  The other possiblity was that, and I'm rationalizing here, I was already prepared to fade out the background, to demonstrate the level perspective in the classical Chinese landscape dogma.  In hind sight, if that truly was my intention, albeit subconsciously, a sliver of mist separating the right third from the middle would have been more poetic.  The following is a photoshop rendition of what could have, or should have happened?

Anyways I emphasized the break of the upper right quardrant from the foreground to establish the level perspective. I did that by darkening the areas immediately adjacent to the misty gap and let the tonal difference do the job of sepearation.  In the process I also left an errant ink drop on the upper left corner.  I suppose that's where my chop would go if I ever decided to turn this into a finished painting one day. Wink Wink.  I need to remind myself to finish the details on the lower left quadrant.

Here's an example of a dry rub ( not referring to Memphis or Texas barbecue, sorry).  This dry rub is another technique to impart shading, texture and also works like a dry wash in this instance.  It can look really good if done right, but it's extremely harsh on the brush.  We normally reserve the worn brushes for this practice.

The dry rubbing around these protruding mountain tops gave the illusion of cloud and mist blanketing the valleys and granting a few of the spires to surface.

And Paint They Did

I like to share with you some of the paintings from these demos

Obviously it is extremely gratifying to see all that preparation producing tangible results.  Everybody thought the Fai Chun was a brilliant idea by adding a finishing touch to the paintings.

I like to mention a few paintings that are especially interesting to me.  In the first example the artist put in his own design by painting in a family portrait if you will:

In the second example, the artist substituted the positions of the hands by simplifying them into a horizontally opposed pose.  Direct and efficient.

In the last example the artist painted what he saw in the pig character.  Mr. Pig now has hair!.   His brushstrokes possessed such virtuoso quality.  Bold and expressive.  Gauging from how he held the brush, he's no stranger to this writing instrument.

 but he was quick to do another version which was more in line with the demo piece.  He did not want to alienate me.  Again his lines were fluid and decisive.

It is worth noting that all 3 examples were done by kids barely 10 years old.  Innocence is precious!
They dare to imagine!